


Distances Between

by afteriwake



Category: CSI: Miami, CSI: NY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 14:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mac reflects on an encounter in Miami.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distances Between

There was something about the stars that reminded him how permanent they were and how much he wasn't. Sometimes he'd go to the roof of his apartment in New York and look up at the sky, looking at the stars. If he was in a particularly strange mood, he'd wonder if she was doing the same.

Strange that a woman who he'd only met briefly once would captivate his attention. He was not a man who could have his attention held by someone he barely knew. But there had been a brief conversation with her in Miami that had nothing to do with the Darius case that had left him intrigued, to say the least.

_"So, that's all the evidence I have for you."_

_"Thank you..."_

_"Maxine. Everyone calls me Valera, though."_

_"Thank you, Maxine."_

_"You know, I only know that you're Detective Taylor. What's your first name?"_

_"Mac."_

_"Mac...I like it."_

_"Really."_

_"Oh, look, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to make a comment like that."_

_"It's all right."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes, really."_

_"Oh. Mac, can I ask you a question?"_

_"Yes..."_

_"Oh, should I have called you Detective Taylor?"_

_"Mac is fine, if I'm going to call you Maxine."_

_"Well...Mac...what's New York like?"_

He was taken aback, not just by the question but by the entire preceding conversation. It was almost like Maxine was trying too hard to please everyone. She seemed a little rushed, a little harried. But he noticed other things; how her smile made her eyes brighten, how the blush that crept up her cheeks made _him_ smile, how she had beautiful eyes...

And because of that, he told her what New York was like. He told her about the constant hum of life, the crowds, the attitudes and the way everything seemed to blend but still stay unique. She asked a few questions, and he gave some answers, but soon the case pulled him away from the woman and her DNA lab and soon took him right back to New York.

But something about her... He'd remember the conversation at the oddest times. When it was dark and gloomy, a typical New York rainy day. When he would close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose to de-stress. When he would go up to the roof and look at the stars as a way to remind himself that there was more to life than him and his cases.

So he wrote to her. He had no idea where to send the letter other than the Miami-Dade Crime Labs, even though he could have easily looked up the address for one Maxine Valera in Miami, Florida. He just didn't want to. If he sent her a letter through official channels, found out if she even remembered who the hell he _was_ , it wouldn't have the feeling of almost desperation.

Which all lead to tonight. He was sitting on the roof, a warm cup of coffee in one hand, a two page letter from Maxine in the other. He hadn't read it yet; he honestly wasn't sure if he'd be able to. He was not a young man with a crush on a young woman. He was obviously older than her; maybe not by much, but he was. And yet she'd got his attention and held it and...

He took a deep breath and opened the letter. As he read it, a grin formed on his face. Only a few lines of the first paragraph even referenced the letter he'd sent her. The rest...the rest was personal, like she'd realized everything he'd hoped to convey in his own letter without saying a word. He read the letter and at the end his eyes lingered on the home address, phone number and e-mail address in black ink on pale blue paper.

He was going to write to her again, he was sure of that.

\---

She opened up her mailbox and looked. There. One letter with the address in precise handwriting, Postmarked from New York City.

He'd actually written back.

She pulled that letter, and _only_ that letter, outside of her mailbox before closing it and leaning against it. It didn't feel as though it was just one page. Two pages, maybe three...Mac had small handwriting, she could see that from the envelope, and if there was two pages, there was a lot to read.

She smiled to herself as she opened it up. All she'd done was ask what New York was like...and now, she thought to herself, maybe she'd have a reason to find out for herself some time in the future.


End file.
